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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419831">The Jackpot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover'>thekingslover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Married Couple</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:34:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Come on, stud,” she says to Dean, tugging on his wrist. “I choose you tonight.”</p>
<p>How easy it would be to follow her daisy dukes and cowboy boots out to the parking lot. So easy to brush the hair back from her bare shoulders and kiss her neck. Easy to pretend that’s all he needs. At one point in his life, it was.</p>
<p>But that had been before.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>397</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Jackpot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cross-posted on my tumblr, thekingslover. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>

<p></p><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Come on, stud,” she says to Dean, tugging on his wrist. “I choose you tonight.”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Dean flashes her his sharpest smile, playboy facade in place. It comes back on instinct more than desire. He’s played this role before. He’s stood in these same shoes so many times they barely have any sole left.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>The neon beer signs are too bright, blinding against the dim overhead lights in the bar. The beer on the counter before him is full, recently ordered, and cold in his hand. The condensation puddles along his fingers, catching in the dip around his ring.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>How easy it would be to follow her daisy dukes and cowboy boots out to the parking lot. So easy to brush the hair back from her bare shoulders and kiss her neck. Easy to pretend that’s all he needs. At one point in his life, it was.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>But that had been <em>before</em>.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>She’s too young for him, in both age and spirit. That’s only the start of the list of wrong things.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Sorry, sweetheart,” Dean says, as gently as he can. She has a devilish look that promises a good time, and she’s generous to offer that time to Dean. It’s not her fault Dean’s already been claimed body and soul. “I hung up my spurs a long time ago.”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Oh?” Her bottom lip pushes out, a tempting lure even to a married man. Dean gives her credit, but that’s all she’s getting.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>He dips his head toward a tall table against the wall. Cas has both elbows on the tabletop, face scrunched as he taps his thumbs over a cell phone. Candy Crush has become his latest foe to vanquish, last on the list after a slew of demons, Lucifer, and God himself.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Daisy Dukes has no idea how outmatched she is. “That guy?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dean, not for the first time, tries to see Cas the way the rest of the world must - nerdy guy in an ill-fitting suit, wrapped in an old overcoat. Frowning at the phone, he has a little line between his brow. Must be a tough level.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But even as he’s trying to see Cas as she does, he knows he’s coming up short. He can’t look at Cas and not see the coat he carried around in his car for a year, the one he desperately searched for in the wilds of Purgatory. Or the blue tie that Dean’s shown him how to put on straight enough times now that he <em>knows</em> Cas does it wrong on purpose. Or the intensity of those eyes, smiting candy squares now, that when focused on Dean, make the rest of the world disappear. Or the love that floods out of him so deeply that Dean, drowning, almost believes he deserves it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s the love of my life,” Dean tells Daisy Dukes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her fingers unhook from Dean’s wrist, but she continues to stand there, looking at Cas and then at him. “That guy.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dean makes a point to scratch his chin with his left hand, flashing his wedding ring. She’s probably already seen. Probably wouldn’t matter much, most times, in a place like this.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’d marry him again tomorrow if he wanted,” Dean says.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She hums. Her hands find her hips and she searches his face. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but after a moment, her smile softens and her shoulders slump.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Lucky,” she says and wanders off. It doesn’t take her long to find another guy at the bar. With the way this one leans into her, she’s found someone more willing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dean plucks the beer from the counter and heads back to the table. He places it with a thunk in front of Cas. Cas moves a couple more candy pieces and then turns off the screen.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You win, angel?” Dean asks. He takes a swig from his own beer which he left behind to refill Cas. It’s warm now, but he swallows it down.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“They keep adding new levels.” Cas glares at where he’s placed the phone, screen down on the corner of the table. “I’m beginning to think victory is unobtainable.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Come on, Cas,” Dean teases. His smile is easy, the playboy facade long gone. “You’re no quitter.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fire burns hot in Cas’s eyes. If he had any angel mojo left, the phone no doubt would burst into flames. “I <em>will</em> win.” He says it like a vow, with the same intensity he gave fighting monsters, or when he took Dean’s hand in front of a judge and promised to love him beyond even death.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Cas,” Dean says, and Cas looks up. The fire dims a little, but only so love can replace it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, Dean?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Now that he has Cas’s full attention, Dean hesitates. What seemed like a good idea a moment ago, he now worries Cas won’t like.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Cas, patient always for Dean, maybe too much, sits and waits. Dean knows he’ll wait all night.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dean won’t make him do that again. “I was thinking...”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Cas starts to smile. “A dangerous prospect.” He’s teasing, and it takes the edge off. He probably did that on purpose. He knows Dean sometimes better than Dean knows himself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dean winks at first, returning the smile, but then he leans forward and takes Cas’s hands in his. He wants him to know he’s serious.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dean?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Marry me,” Dean says.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dean.” Cas blinks. “We are already married.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah, yeah, I know, but...” They married in a rush, speeding to the Courthouse five minutes after Dean had asked the last time. Sam sat in the back in his pajamas. Dean wore a Zeppelin t-shirt. It had been a whirlwind and perfect but. But. “I kinda want to do it right, you know? With everyone there.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Cas watches him, silent for a heartbeat and two. Then he starts to smile again, that quiet, secret smile he shares a lot with Dean, and Dean knows he has him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We could get new suits,” Dean says. “Have a big party.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I would like that, Dean.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Cas squeezes Dean’s hand. “Yes,” he says, a vow.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>At the door, Daisy Dukes is pulling Mr. Willing into the parking lot. He’s got a smile like he won the lottery. For tonight, maybe he has.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But Dean? Here with Cas, Dean hits the jackpot everyday.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I love you, Cas.” The words come so easily, Dean can’t believe he ever had trouble saying them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Cas brings Dean’s hand to his mouth. He kisses each knuckle and then the ring. “And I, you.”</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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